Only a Hippopotamus
by shield-maiden
Summary: What does eleven year old Draco want most for Christmas? A Hippopotamus. Will his mum get him one or will he taste bitter disappointment?


Disclaimer: I do not own the Malfoys nor any other character from Harry Potter. The song from which the story and some of the lines are derived is not from my own imagining either. They're property of John Rox and the vocal talents of Gayla Peevy.

Author's Note: I just couldn't resist. I kept hearing "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" on the radio and couldn't help but think of Draco and what outrageous things he must have wanted for Christmas growing up. Without further adieu: "Only a Hippopotamus".

* * *

" A hippopotamus."

"A hippopotamus," Pansy repeated. "Honestly, Draco, wouldn't you like something else for Christmas?"

"No." Draco looked her in the eyes, " Only a hippopotamus will do."

"Well," Pansy huffed, "I don't think that's all that great a present. Awfully expensive, but I suppose your parents can afford it. Mine are getting me a doll. A beautiful china doll."

"Tinker Toys," Crabbe grunted.

"That's all well and good for you with your mental capacity. I mean, it's not that hard to stack logs," he turned to Pansy, " and a doll might be great for a girl. Personally, I want a hippopotamus to play with instead. I think I actually might enjoy it."

"And how do you think a hippopotamus would get into Malfoy Manor? Down your dirty chimney flue, perhaps? I doubt Santa would really like to perform a shrinking spell that late at night."

"The easiest way would be to bring him through our front door, I expect." Draco paused in thought. "I shall have to remind Dobby to keep the door unlocked for him."

"Have you written to your parents about this?"

"No, Goyle, I haven't. Perhaps I should, eh? Couldn't hurt. I'll make sure she knows it's at the top of my Christmas list. Have some parchment I could borrow, Crabbe?"

His stooge dutifully rummaged in his book bag, a look of concentration evident upon his face. Within a moment he produced a crinkled scroll void of any writing."

"Isn't that supposed to be for note taking in potions," Pansy questioned.

Crabbe screwed up his face for a moment but it was Goyle who answered. "I take notes for the both of us." He smiled, proud that he was of some use to his best pal besides Draco of course.

"So Draco takes his own notes, then?" Pansy eyed the blond suspiciously. "Somehow I can't imagine you lifting a hand to dip a quill in ink, Draco."

"What do you mean? I'm lifting a quill right now!" He dipped the feather quill in a pot of Emerald ink, nibbled on the end for a moment before beginning his letter.

Dearest Mother and Father

Mother always came before Father. He didn't know why. Possibly because Mother always seemed to take him seriously, while Father always wanted to know why. Why? He was their loving son, wasn't that reason enough? Back to the letter, thought Draco.

Dearest Mother and Father,

I know that earlier this year I said I wanted a Nimbus 2000 for Christmas but I have since changed my mind. Instead I would like it noted that I would prefer a hippopotamus. Can't you just imagine it? Me on Christmas morning creeping down the large, grand staircase to the Parlor Room with the tree. Joy and surprise will light up my face when I open up my eyes to see a hippo hero standing there.

As I am quite busy at school for the moment with first semester finals upon us I request that you have Dobby send a revised letter to Santa Clause so as to reach him before his Christmas Eve joyride.

Your loving, only son,

Draco

"I think that should just about do it." He smiled. "Now, who wants to run this up to the owlery?"

* * *

He received a return owl promptly the next morning at breakfast. Draco quickly took the letter in hand, broke the Malfoy seal and scanned the parchment.

My Darling Draco, (apparently it was Mother writing)

I realize how disappointed this must make you but I'm afraid a hippopotamus is out of the question. Despite our spacious living quarters there's no place to put a creature of that size. And I just don't know how I could ever forgive myself if you would be eaten up by it the moment we had our backs turned. I'm only thinking of your well being, darling. How about if we get you a pet snake this year? Wouldn't that be nice?

Mother

P.S. Do you think you'll be needing new dress robes this year? I would hate to see you at the family ball wearing robes that left your ankles showing.

"Well," Pansy prompted, "What did she say?"

"Said there wasn't any place to put one. Which is ridiculous. There's lots of room for him in our garage. Dreadfully muggle, I know, but father added one when he realized the holding capabilities. I could feed him there, and wash him there...and even give him his massage."

"Draco," Pansy took his shoulder, "I realize this is important to you but...I think you're taking this hippopotamus thing a little too far."

"Yeah," Goyle butted in, " you might as well ask for an Crocodile."

"Or a rhinoceros," Crabbe nodded.

"But I only like hippopotamuses," Draco glared. "And hippopotamuses like me too I should think." He took one last swig of his pumpkin juice before grabbing his book-bag and storming off to class.

Professor Quirrel was in one of his moods that day. He stood at the front of the class jabbering on about dark woodland creatures: gigantic spiders and sharp-toothed horses. Draco's hand shot in the air, which startled Quirrel so much as to produce a squeak of surprise. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Since you seem to know so much about dangerous creatures I thought maybe you might know something about hippopotamuses."

Quirrel's face screwed up in surprise. His eyes looked up at the ceiling for a moment before replying. "Hipp-p-p-pop-p-p-p... Hippos?"

"Yes, Hippopotamuses," Draco drawled, pleased to have found a word Quirrel would take ages to say if it didn't have a shortened form. He would have to remember to find other troublesome words in the future, for amusement purposes. "Mother says a...what did you call it? Hippo? Yes, a hippo would eat me up, but..."

"Hip-p-p-os are veg-g-gitarians," Quirrel stuttered. "N-now back to our lesson."

"I knew it," Draco smiled to Goyle at his side. "Mother will have to change her mind after I tell her this. She won't have any reason to refuse."

* * *

Christmas came in a flurry of snow and Draco could hardly contain his excitement as he crept down the stairs. That is to say, he crept until he remembered that Malfoys do not creep anywhere, they saunter. But sauntering just didn't work for his level of excitement so after a few steps he bolted down the remaining four steps and through the doors to the parlor. There it was, the Christmas tree. Draco glanced around. No hippos in sight. Well, maybe mother would have told Santa to leave the dirty creature outside. He turned around to see his parents standing in the doorway, both still in their pajamas.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," his mother smiled.

"Merry Christmas, mum," he replied.

"Well, son," his father grinned, don't you want to open your presents?"

"Um," Draco bit his bottom lip, "it's just that I...I expected something...something bigger."

Lucius Malfoy looked down his nose at his son. "Well, maybe you had better open these before you start thinking you didn't get what you wanted."

"Yes, Father." He glanced around the brightly colored parcels. "This one's for you, Mother," he handed Narcissa a small green box, "And for you Father," one with red plaid wrapping and a large green bow.

"Thank you, Draco," Lucius smiled. Now, I know there are quite a few presents here but why don't you check behind the chair in the corner, I believe I saw one back there addressed to you." Draco looked oddly at his father before doing as he said. There was a box there. But, surely it wasn't large enough to house a hippopotamus. "Go ahead," his father grinned, open it."

Draco maneuvered the box out into the middle of the room. It was large, no doubt about it and had barely been hidden by the large recliner. His hands shook as he took a corner of the wrapping and, taking a deep breath, tore it off. A plain, brown box sat there. No way this was a hippopotamus. They needed air. He lifted off the cover and peeked inside. There, inside, sat a large, purple, stuffed hippopotamus. Draco eyed his father. His old man couldn't really have thought this was what he wanted.

"What is it, Draco?" Narcissa looked expectantly at her son, holding the contents of her own box, a pearl necklace.

"Its...a hippopotamus," Draco replied. "Just like I asked for, but..." His dad gave him a warning look and a wink. "Thank you, both of you," he took the stuffed animal out of it's box and ran over to dutifully hug his parents. He then set about distributing other packages, which contained many other wonderful presents. The stuffed hippopotamus watched him from its spot on the sofa. When all were unwrapped Narcissa smiled contentedly before rising to her feet. "I'll let you boys bask in the glow while I go check if Dobby's done with breakfast." With a smile and swish of her robe she exited the parlor. Lucius looked back over his shoulder, checking that she had really gone.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Checking that your mother's gone."

"Why?"

"Because that hippo there has an incantation I wanted to tell you about but couldn't lest your mother hear." He looked once more. "After breakfast you take that thing outside and follow the instructions on the tag. You'll get your hippopotamus. Just make sure you keep hold of that tag so you can set him right again."

"Sirs?" Dobby's head poked out from behind the door. " Dobby is sorry, sirs, but breakfast is ready, sirs."

"You heard him, Draco, breakfast is ready. You'll have plenty of time to play with your toys after you eat."

Draco couldn't believe his father had defied his mother. He bolted down his food that morning and after putting on a jacket, mittens, hat, scarf and a warming charm from his mother he hurried outside with his hippo.

Narcissa watched her son with interest before turning and looking at his father. "You didn't," she said.

"Oh, come now, 'Cissa. I had an Ostrich when I was eleven. Didn't you have something?"

She thought for a moment. "A horse. But that is hardly the same thing."

"Let the boy have some fun. When he gets tired of the thing we can always set it on some muggles."

"Now that, would be a wonderful Christmas present," Narcissa beamed before giving her husband a kiss. They could hear Draco laughing outside, which in itself was a Christmas miracle. Narcissa just hoped that next year would not herald a Dragon on her son's Christmas list; they were not as easily gotten rid of as a hippopotamus no matter how many muggles you fed it.


End file.
